Fine Wine
***********


Exploring the musty old dark basement,

I came apon a surprise.

Whats this I see before mine eyes?

Within the cob webs painted,

With dust of many years.

There stood a mighty wooden rack,

That once held vines of time.



Resting peacefully behind one bottle,

As dark green hue came to view.

Carefully allmost guilted- I reached out for you,

Pulling this bottle- off the mighty rack.

The shelf it looked so empty,

Yet a treasure I had found.

I wiped the dusty bottle within my loving grip.



Took you to the kitchen,

To sit you down at last.

From cabinetry I retrieved,

Crystal glasses a setting for two.

Had yet to share these glasses,

With someone that I knew.

Sealed cork firmly in its place.



Pulsing fingertips traced around your neck,

I pulled a cork screw out of drawer.

Whispered words pure emotion,

Piercing sealed up bottle now.

Baited was held my breath.

Softly moaned the ageless release of ingrediant.

To pour dark rubied color into glass clear.



I held that ruby color up to naked lips,

Where there I began to sip.

With potent taste apon my tongue,

When swirled around my mouth begun.

Swallowed essence fully down.

Feelings as if I might drown.


Then oh so suddenly it was warm,

My head and thoughts they did swarm.

My mouth moved laughingly,

Two hearts had taken flight.

The ingrediants were very very ripe,

Thats when I knew... I had been intoxicated by you!



By: ~Teddy~

07-12-2009

Cool poem! You seem to love wine ALMOST as much as I do!

Thankyou for reading


The poem is a metaphor really.

I very rarely drink,
Maybe once or twice a year if that.

I like what you did with this...

Taking us, step by step, along with you in this experience...

Nicely done MsT

(Tea) of course

Kiss's to you Ms Teddy